


Kiss in the Rain

by lesdemonium (winnerstick), winnerstick



Series: Romtober 2020 [13]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/lesdemonium, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/winnerstick
Summary: For Jaskier's birthday, Geralt wants to be romantic. Nothing goes according to plan.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Romtober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949827
Comments: 13
Kudos: 264





	Kiss in the Rain

Jaskier liked romantic.

For Jaskier, things seemed to just fall into place. A flower the exact color of Geralt’s eyes, which Jaskier slid behind his ear with a fond smile. A song that he wrote and played, just for Geralt, just when the night was dark and everything around them was quiet, still, and just for them. He knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, exactly how to move and gesture and touch to make Geralt feel swept off his feet and more than a little flustered under the attention. And warm. And wanted.

Geralt, however, was no good at romance.

He blustered his words, no matter how hard he tried to soften them. The flowers he gave Jaskier always seemed to get crushed or wilted by the time Geralt offered them. He could not sing Jaskier songs or write him poetry; he could hardly string together the words possible to convey the depths of his feelings for Jaskier. And still, every time Geralt tried, Jaskier smiled brightly and his eyes shone as if whatever Geralt had fumbled his way through was the greatest gift he could have received.

Geralt knew it wasn’t enough, though, not really. He had to do better. It was for Jaskier, after all. 

When Geralt returned to the inn, a small bundle of wildflowers in his hands, he stopped short. Jaskier was talking to the innkeeper’s wife. There was a large vase with all manner of flowers in there, some Geralt didn’t think were even  _ growing _ now. Jaskier laughed with the innkeeper, then noticed Geralt at the door and waved him over with a broad smile.

“Geralt, look! Lena heard it was my birthday and surprised me with this bouquet! Apparently, she’s a florist! Isn’t it beautiful?” Jaskier sounded so pleased.

Lena flushed under his praise. “Only but a moment of work. I have a garden in the back, but I so rarely get to use my flowers for anything, and Jaskier played so beautifully for us last night…” she smiled at them both. “I thought since you said you were staying a day or two, they could freshen up your room.”

“They will do wonderfully, Lena,” Jaskier answered, and patted her hand appreciatively. “Thank you, you really are far too kind. I think you have a business in the making!”

Lena's blush turned a deeper red and she squirmed under the attention. She made her excuses to leave and Jaskier accepted them with more parting expressions of gratitude. Then he turned to Geralt and, smile never dimming, nodded to the flowers in Geralt’s hand.

“Are those for me?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt grimaced--he had almost forgotten them and now they hung limply at his hand. He lifted the bouquet and, avoiding Jaskier’s eye, held them out. In his distraction, they had gotten crushed, and now half of them look wilted. Of course.

Jaskier did not seem phased. “Oh, Geralt!” Jaskier said, taking the flowers from his hand and leaning in to kiss Geralt’s cheek. “I love them, thank you.”

“Happy birthday,” Geralt mumbled.

Jaskier refused to let Geralt carry either of the bouquets, and to Geralt’s embarrassment, displayed the sorry bunch of flowers right beside the opulent vase. He spent such a long time setting them up, making them look nice, and Geralt was sure he was largely doing it for Geralt’s benefit. So he didn’t feel embarrassed that his attempt at a gift had fallen so short. Geralt would have much preferred they just moved on.

“Jaskier, come on,” Geralt said after Jaskier turned the vase for probably the hundredth time. “It looks good. We should go, though.”

“Go? Where are we going?” Jaskier asked, turning to Geralt. Geralt shrugged his shoulders, then nodded his head in the direction of the door. Jaskier’s face split into a smile. “Geralt, do you have  _ plans _ for us?”

“Only if we  _ leave the room _ .”

Jaskier looked delighted, and even Geralt couldn’t hide his smile as Jaskier took his hand and followed him.

The smile was promptly wiped off his face when they got to their destination, though.

“Geralt? Why’ve we stopped?” Jaskier asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Geralt just sighed and looked at the shop they were in front of. Geralt had chosen this town  _ specifically _ for this shop, the luthier shop that Jaskier had  _ raved _ about for months the last time they had stopped here. But now, there was a sign on the door. They were closed. For a family emergency. Geralt scrubbed a hand over his face in his frustration.

“Oh is this that--it is! Geralt! You were going to take me to that luthier?” Jaskier’s voice was filled with unrestrained glee. “That’s marvelous!”

“It’s not marvelous,” Geralt argued. Deadpanned, really. “They’re closed.”

“Oh, pish,” Jaskier answered, waving a dismissive hand at him. “How were you to predict their family emergency? It’s the thought that counts, and all that.”

Defeated, Geralt led them to his next plan. It was a little early to have lunch, but Jaskier liked slow, lazy days. He wouldn’t bemoan taking a pleasant walk around the lake Geralt had planned for them to picnic at.

As Geralt anticipated, Jaskier was  _ thrilled _ at his plan for a peaceful day together. At least, until he stepped on a rock that was just a bit too muddy, and slipped off it onto the ground. Geralt knew he was hurt before Jaskier’s face scrunched up in pain. He only twisted it, but that very promptly crossed off any plans for a walk around the lake. Instead, Geralt carried him to a shady spot under a tree and, with another sigh, set about pulling out their meal.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but Jaskier looked at it as if it was gold. Geralt tried not to look at him too closely. This wasn’t good enough, he knew, and everything had gone so poorly. But maybe Jaskier really meant it when he said it was the thought that counted.

They had barely finished their meal when the sky opened and a downpour began. Geralt hadn’t even noticed the clouds moving in.

With a groan, Geralt tried to stand, only to be stopped by a hand on his forearm.

“Where are you going?” Jaskier asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“To take you back to the inn?” Geralt asked, and gave him a curious look. Where else would he be going?

“But we were having such a nice time.” Now Jaskier pouted and tugged insistently on Geralt’s arm. He didn’t even seem phased by the fact that his hair was now dripping with water. “We’re already wet, why rush back?”

Geralt landed back on the ground with a huff. He glared at the rain and was glad, at least, for the small mercy of them being under the tree. Instead of being dumped on, it was falling in far smoother trickles, the leaves above them filtering out the worst of it. It was still  _ wet _ , though. Wet and uncomfortable and not at all what he had planned for today.

“Darling, what’s the matter?” Jaskier asked, scooting closer to Geralt. When Geralt didn’t answer, Jaskier pressed a finger to his jaw, forcing Geralt to turn and look at him. “What’s got you so cross?”

“ _ This day _ ,” Geralt groaned, pulling his head away and crossing his arms.

“I hope you don’t mean that how it sounds,” Jaskier said with a soft laugh. “Not exactly what most people would like to hear on their birthday.”

“That’s not what I--everything’s gone  _ wrong _ ,” Geralt said. He huffed again. “I wanted today to be special.  _ Romantic _ , for you. Because you--like that.” The words sounded lame on his tongue and he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go back to the inn; the rain’s ruined this.”

“Nothing is ruined!” Jaskier insisted, sounding almost frantic. “Geralt, today has been  _ perfect _ . You brought me flowers, you took me to a shop you knew I’d love. I got to go on a nice walk with you, and you prepared this picnic. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more special in my life. This is the most romantic birthday I’ve ever had.”

Geralt scoffed. “Lena’s bouquet was bigger--”

“--but you went out and got those for me yourself--”

“--shop was closed--”

“--you still took me there!”

“You twisted your ankle!”

“And you so kindly carried me to safety! And you’ll get to carry me back to the inn! Really, I am far less put upon than my injury would make me seem--some people would say indignity, I would say swoon-worthy.”

“Now it’s  _ raining _ .”

“I am of the opinion,” Jaskier started, crossing his arms and staring at Geralt with a hard expression, one that made no room for argument, “that rain makes things particularly romantic.” He pressed a thumb into the lines on Geralt’s forehead, trying to smooth out the tension. “Geralt, please. I’ve had a wonderful day. All because of you and your planning. Even if things didn’t go  perfectly , _you_ still did all this, just for me. And that matters. It matters that it's you.”

Geralt rolled his eyes at his bard, but allowed Jaskier to soothe him anyway. If Jaskier really felt like Geralt had done well, then maybe Geralt could just accept that. He uncrossed his arms and slipped a hand around Jaskier, pulling him in by his hip. Jaskier beamed at him, and settled against Geralt’s side.

“You know how I think we can solve this problem of weather?” Jaskier asked some time later. Geralt hummed and Jaskier sat up, just a bit. “I need you to kiss me. Right now. While it’s pouring.”

Geralt snorted, but how could he deny Jaskier? It was his birthday, after all.


End file.
